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theemporium · 2 months

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[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.

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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.

It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it.

And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like.

But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly.

But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.

In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.

And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be.

The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on.

And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together).

Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.

Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.

…

The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs.

Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other.

And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.

He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers.

It still felt like a dream.

And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited.

“Takin’ it all in?”

He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed.

Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”

“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”

Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”

Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”

His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”

He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.

“What do ya think about her?”

Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar.

“What about her?”

Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”

“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”

Jack punched his arm in response.

“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.

Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”

Luke froze.

There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—

“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!”

Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.”

Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.”

“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered.

“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”

“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”

“Focus on yourself.”

“It’s my duty as a brother—”

“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it.

He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back.

“There you are, babe!”

Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing.

“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.

“This is your boyfriend?”

The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose.

Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.

He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason.

“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!”

The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar.

“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”

His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?”

Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”

“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”

Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?”

“A Coke.”

“Really?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”

“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?”

“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”

“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown.

“It is,” you assured him with a smile.

Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him.

“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”

He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”

“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”

“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”

You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.”

“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him.

And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again.

But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.

…

He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again.

So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.

As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.

What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was.

He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”

Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”

But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.

He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you.

No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing.

“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.

“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”

Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”

Luke frowned. “What?”

“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”

His eyes widened. “What?!”

“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”

“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Luke blinked. “No?”

“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”

Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”

“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”

Shove.

“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”

Shove.

“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”

Shove.

“Can you stop? I am not—”

Shove.

“Go talk to her!”

Shove.

“No—”

Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—

You.

It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.

“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.

You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock.

Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”

But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed.

“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing.

“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say.

“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened.

“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name.

Cherry.

Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it.

Pathetic? Yes.

Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him.

There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—

Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise.

Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.

“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?”

And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.

Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs.

You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.

“Get it, Moose!”

Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.

Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.

He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.

“Help a girl out?”

Luke cleared his throat but nodded.

He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror.

And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head.

His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.”

“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.

“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.

You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”

“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”

“Luke?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.”

And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.

“Oh.”

“Are you going to look at me now?”

He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further.

“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.

His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”

You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap.

Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out.

“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.”

“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”

His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.”

You say it like a fact, not a question.

Luke choked a little. “Well—”

“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.

“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.”

You looked intrigued now. “Why?”

Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.”

You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”

And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.

“Because I’m a virgin.”

You blinked. And he fucking waited for it.

He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited.

And it never came.

“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.

“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.”

You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.”

You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?”

“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.”

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”

“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”

“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.

He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan.

He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—

“What if I helped you?”

Yeah, that was not what he expected.

His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”

“What if I helped you?” You repeated.

“Helped me with what?”

“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”

He blinked. “And…you would do that?”

“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”

“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”

“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”

You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”

New friend.

Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.”

He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’

You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.”

It was his choice.

He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life.

No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then.

But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.

And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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zvdvdlvr · 3 months

Note

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair.

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack?

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple.

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked.

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety.

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.”

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days.

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible.

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well.

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed.

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either.

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi.

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world.

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared.

Emily never remembered seeing you scared.

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her.

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace.

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered.

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race.

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room.

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward.

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck.

You were home.

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oncasette · 1 year

Note

just a lil request for Phil Wenneck… car sex? 🫶🏽

𝗜’𝗗 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗨𝗣 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨

phil wenneck x wife!reader

summary: 1.4k.

The two of you are barely twenty minutes into your drive–that is, apparently, only an hour and a half according to your husband–when Phil starts getting handsy. You’re back in one of those little sundresses he adores so much, seat pushed back as far as it can go, feet crossed and perched up on the dashboard.

or the one where phil fucks his wife on a deserted back road.

warnings: smut, piv, car sex, (almost) reckless driving, unprotected sex

masterlist | taglist

Phil wouldn’t admit it to anyone–not even to you, most days–but he was a sucker for the domestic scene. It was such a guilty pleasure, seeing you in those pretty little sundresses while you made lunch in the kitchen. Bare feet against the linoleum of your mudroom as you fold the laundry. Watching you brush your teeth on your side of the jack and jill sinks in your bathroom in one of his old t-shirts from college.

It leaves his brain a little hazy, a little numb. Clouds his judgment and his rational thought until he’s sliding up behind you while you make breakfast, arms linked around your middle as he presses barely there kisses to the seam of your shoulder.

“You got any plans today?” he asks, moving the neckline of the shirt you’d stolen with the tip of his nose and humming against the bare skin he finds there.

“No,” you say. “Unless you count lounging around here.”

“Good,” he says. “Because we’re going on a trip.”

The palms of his hands are splayed wide against your hips, beneath the hemline of the shirt and skimming the thin edge of the panties you were wearing.

“Phil-” He hushes you, quickly, kissing the spot below your ear. “I’ve already got you a bag packed.”

“We can’t just go,” you scoff, smiling.

“Why not? C’mon, baby, I’ve already got you a bag packed and everything,” he says. His voice is low and gravely, chest rumbling against your back. “Let me spend some time with my beautiful wife, hm?”

“Y-yeah.” The words come out as a stutter, slipping down your tongue as Phil nips at your pulse point and molds you into putty in his palms. “Yeah, let’s go somewhere.”

“There’s my good girl,” he says and you huff out of your nose at the loss of contact from his lips.

He pulls away to give you time to finish cooking the food you were no longer interested in and stalks back up the stairs to grab your bags.

He’d left you alone to get ready. He’d loaded up the car, tossing the single bag stuffed full of both of your clothes into the trunk and the trader joe’s bag of snacks into the back seat, leaving you alone in the bedroom to dress as you pleased.

Needless to say, Phil was more than shocked when his fingers pushed up the pale yellow fabric of your dress and found nothing but more of your soft, bare skin when he’d expected the delicate cotton of your underwear again.

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he scoffs as he takes his gaze off the road to turn toward you with wide eyes.

“Eyes on the road, handsome,” you say, tapping his cheek delicately with the hand closest to him.

“I can’t believe you’re not wearing panties right now.”

You hum in response, bringing your hand down to fiddle with his fingers from where they’re still resting on your leg. It’s like your touch brings him back to the surface, the drag of his hand resuming as he moves closer to the slick between your thighs.

“Holy fuck,” Phil groans as you guide his hand, coating his fingers in your arousal. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

The tip of his middle finger has just barely pressed itself into your pussy when he pulls his hand away entirely, leaving you with a whine caught at the base of your throat. You watch him white knuckle the steering wheel and flick on the turn signal.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, baby?” He checks the mirrors before abruptly changing lanes.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Getting off the interstate so I can find a back road… or something,” he says. His jaw clenches so tight you think you can hear his teeth grinding.

“Phil,” you sigh as you adjust in your seat, leaning toward him over the middle console to slide a hand across the denim of his pants. Your eyes roll back in your head as you think about how delicious it would feel against your clit, thighs clenching as your hand finds the bulge in his jeans.

“Fucking christ. Give me five minutes…” he sighs. “Two minutes.”

You palm his cock, heat emanating through the fabric. He’s finally reached an exit, the three minutes that had passed in the midst of the exchange feeling more like twenty as Phil holds your wrist to keep your movements at bay. The two of you are lucky enough to have gotten off at a fairly deserted spot. A decently dense swath of trees surround the parts of the street not taken up by fast food places and gas stations and it only takes you a couple minutes to find a side street to pull off into.

It feels like the car is thrown into park before the wheels stop rolling. Your seatbelt is unbuckled for you, hands landing on your hips to pull you over the center console until your knees are framing his legs and he’s looking up at you through hazy eyes. His hands are still on your hips, grip strong as he tugs you down fully onto his lap.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” he asks. He grinds you down, rolling your hips against his until there’s a wet spot in the denim. You were right, too. The way the fabric catches your clit with each drag has drool pooling beneath your tongue.

“Want your cock, Phil,” you whimper. You lean forward, forehead pressed against his until you’re basically swapping air.

“You think you deserve it?” he asks before spitting out “no panties” under his breath.

“Want it so bad, please,” you whine. Your cunt is practically weeping over him, clenching around nothing. You reach between the two of you to paw at his belt. The buckle is bulky between your fingers and it takes you multiple tries to undo it. He lets you handle it, only pitching in to lift his hips to get his boxers and pants down just enough to slip his cock out.

He pulses in your grasp, dick jumping as you swipe your thumb over the slit to spread the thick beads of his pre-cum over the head. He’s so thick your thumb just barely meets your index finger when fully wrapped around.

You inhale sharply through your nose as you line him up.

“You always feel so-” Phil groans. “Perfect wrapped around me.”

You slide down his length slowly, allowing yourself to soak up the feeling of him stretching you out–despite the fact that you’d fucked the night before–until he’s fully seated inside of you. Until you’re rolling your hips into the coarse patch of pubic hair that meets your clit.

He leans forward to connect your lips, drowning out the sound of your moans as he licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes up to cradle the back of your head as you lift your hips to start bouncing on him. He didn’t want a repeat of the last time you’d fucked in his car. He’d had to kiss you silly to keep you from feeling the dull throb in the back of your head.

His other hand guides your movements, allowing you to pull up off him slowly only to slam you down on him so hard he nearly has you seeing stars.

“God,” he exhales. You can already feel him twitching inside you.

“I’m so close.”

“Me, too, baby. Hm, haven’t cum this fast since I was a fucking teenager,” he says. It only takes the feel of you clamping down around him once to send his hips shooting up into you, cum spurting out of him in thick ropes that have your walls fluttering around him.

You cum around him with a constant chant of oh my god.

The two of you sit in the silence of your orgasms for the next couple minutes, giving Phil enough time to regain coherent thought as the mixture of both of you cum seeps out around his dick.

“You know, I was gonna fuck you when we got there, but…” Phil’s lament is cut off with a half-hearted slap to the chest.

#phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #the hangover #the hangover imagine #phil wenneck imagine

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eimids · 3 months

Note

top mapi nwsf alphabet 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

The poll decided Mapi first so here we go!!

NSFW - Alphabet Challenge

Mapi Leon: All letters (except deleted like couple of them haha)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I mean look at her. She may seem tough but behind that surface she is a cuddly teddy bear. She is very touchy with her aftercare and that's the kind of aftercare she also needs. Lots of cuddles and hugs, lots of sweet kisses and laughing together.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

She doesn't necassarily have a favorite body part of yours but anytime you show even a bit of skin, she is all over you. She loves to watch you in shorts trying to play football with her. (If she could decide, you would never wear lothes)

Again not a body part, but she obviously loves her tattoos. They are very meaningful to her and she just loves all of them, especially the neck one ;)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

It isn't a secret that she has had a lot of girls before you but that is only a good thing because it has made her very experienced and good at what she does.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Mapi loves when you ride her. She love to see your boobs jumping up and down, she loves that she can just enjoy the beautiful view in front of her. She also loves to guide you by lifting your hips and pushing them back down.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Mapi will be laughing a lot. That's just her personality and she is a giggly person. So she is joking around but is still very focused on what she is doing.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

She doesn't really care. Sometimes she goes a long time without shaving and sometimes she keeps it shaven for months at a time. If she has the energy to shave, she probably will.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Hmm.. Once again it really depends on the situation but I would say that most of the time it is very intimate. It is almost always rough but intimacy is the key in her opinion. She always makes sure that she loves you during the moment.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Not the biggest fan. Like obviously she does it if she needs to be away from you for a long time but if its like a week or something, she is good. (maybe not if you tease her and send a lost of pics)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This might sound a bit weird first but she has captained Spain a few times and that just does something to her. She loves to hear your call her captain and it gives her some sort of power that she graves.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom is always nice but her favorite place would probably be in the living room. She loves to fuck you while you are watching a movie or just sit there while you eat her out.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

As mentioned earlier, she loves when you show off your skin. It could be a little cleavage or you wearing some short shorts. To be honest it could be even you just in a t shirt where Mapi can see your arms.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I would say that she is not into sharing you. She is very jealous person and if someone even looks at you weirdly she will get jealous. So that's like a thing she wouldn't have a threesome. (at least if someone else would get to touch you)

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

She actually preferences receiving than giving. She loves to have your mouth on her and she is just in heaven when your tongue is lapping her. She sometimes eats you out but more often she likes to fuck you with a strap or something else.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

She is usually more fast and rough. She loves after a game to just absolutely rail you to the mattress. If they have won she just wants to make you feel so good and will go all night. If they have lost or she is otherwise upset, she will take her frustration in fucking you just roughly.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Ohh Mapi loves a good quickie. Having her eat you out before she is off to practice is always good.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She is very experimental but isn't taking risks with someone seeing you guys fuck. She is open to a lot of stuff in the bedroom.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I feel like I have said this about all of the people i have written for ahah but being an athlete she strong and her stamina is good. She needs a few breaks every now and then but otherwise can go for a long time.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Ohh fuck yes. She loves her straps. She loooves when she can please you while she fucks you with a big strap. She owns multiple of them and loves to stretch you out with a new one every now and then.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh she teases you until your underwear is a mess. She just teases you and teases you. But you often give the same attitude back which she doesn't really enjoy that much. (will punish you afterwards hehe)

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Uhh mapi is a loud one. She is moaning and groaning every chance she gets. She also loves your moan. She just loves when it's not quiet. Mapi is also the BIGGEST dirty talker. There is never a quiet moment.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Boxers are a go to. She usually isn't wearing a bra unless she is at training, she just finds them uncomfortable.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High. I feel like she is ready to go whenever. Even after hard games, she has surprisingly a lot of energy to fuck you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She is fast asleep. Especially if she has been the one receiving, she is asleep in minutes. But more often she is giving you pleasure and after that she will make 100% sure that you are okay before falling asleep.

#woso community #woso fanfics #wlw post #woso x reader #mapi leon #maria leon

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justins-1-justan · 8 months

Text

Doing spooky activities with total drama characters!

It's spooky season! ^=^

Dj!

Horror movies?

Hahahahah. No ♡

You both stay in and cuddle while watching the Simpsons Halloween specials while eating candy.

You also wear matching halloween pajamas!

The moon has long been in the sky this Halloween, younger trick or treaters had already gone home and the older ones which stayed were met by the cold autumn breeze. But bundled up in soft throw blankets, wrapped in each other's arms as the fire roars, is you and Dj. An old episode plays, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, you rest your head against DJ's shoulder as you slowly drift off to sleep.

Geoff.

You can probably already guess,

Of course you're both going to a Halloween party, if not throwing one yourselves!

Matching costumes!! This year you're the grim reaper and a ghost! Geoff is the ghost & you're the reaper ofc!

Laughter, music, and a cheerful energy paints the party. The flashing lights reflect in his blue eyes, he twirls you as the monster mash booms on the speakers. The two of you party all night, for a holiday that's supposed to be scary, it made such joyful memories.

Izzy!

You both scare the daylights out of trick or treaters.

Your job was to stand on the porch with the candy bowl, candy bowl which is filled with fun sized candy bars disguised as full sized ones.

Izzy's idea of course.

Meanwhile Izzy would hide in the bushes in her 'franken-izzy' costume waiting to jump out at trick or treaters.

You successfully made six kids, three teenagers, and one adult man cry. Congrats?

From your peripheral vision you can see a child in the horizon approaching, you stand in position on the porch. The child, dressed like a minion, steps onto the porch. Per Izzy's instructions you hand them the 'full sized' candy bar. They smile happily and thank you and then.... "BOOOO!!" Izzy yells out at the child. After causing the child to subsequently drop their candy, earning a glare from the child's parents, Izzy practically dies of laughter while holding onto your shoulder.

Scott.

Hehehahaha, he took you a grave yard.

Yep.

A grave yard.

The scheme is that you'll get so scared you'll fall into his arms.

.. Let's just say that doesn't go as planned.

The moon shines brightly down upon you and Scott walking hand in hand in this abandoned graveyard. Boredom creeping over you, an idea dawns. Holding back giggles, you loudly let out a piercing howl like scream, causing Scott to quickly jump and whip his head back towards you. He glares at you and let's go of your hand when he realizes you're fine, he continues the pace of walking you were formerly at, you quickly chase after him and grab his hand, giggling with murmurs of apologies.

Area fifty~one alien Cody~Clone from S3 EP15 & briefly S5 EP7!

Breaking him out of area 51 for the holiday wasn't as difficult as you would think!

After convincing the guards you were a trick or treater, they left to go grab something to give you, then you simply walked to where he was being held and busted him out.

Since he had been in a government facility for years, he's never seen a scary movie before! Oh no!

So you decided to take him to the local AMC and see the latest horror movie.

You bought him popcorn and a slushie.

The two of you sat in your seats, interlocking your hands as their movie starts. The first jump scare happens and instinctively, you grip his hand tighter. Only to hear him let out a whaling scream. You turn towards him and your face pales as your boyfriend's arm turn completely into green goop.

Bridgette!

You both go pumpkin carving!

She carves a sailboat meanwhile you carve a classic jack o' lantern.

More matching costumes!! She dresses as a mermaid meanwhile you're a prince/princess!

The smell of pumpkin surrounds the kitchen you are both sat on the floor of, you look up from carving your pumpkin to see Bridgette dead focus on carving the perfect pumpkin, to the point she doesn't notice the pumpkin guts on her cheek. Giggling to yourself you wait for the next time she's turning her pumpkin around to scoot closer to her. You wipe the pumpkin guts off of her cheek, she turns her attention towards you for a brief second and you take the opportunity to sweetly kiss her cheek. Successfully catching her off gaurd.

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chenyann · 2 years

Text

Sleeping With The First Years<3

Ace trappola,Deuce spade,Jack howl,Epel felmier and Sebek zigvolt

hello everyone ^^ so I'm trying something new and I swear I'm working on the epel fic;; but enjoy this while yall wait~yako♡ Tw:sebek slander fluff/crack

Ace

Happy- that's it he is just super happy!

plops on the bed and lays down on the side he knows you sleep on, oh you sleep on the right side of the bed?

TOO BAD THAT'S ACES SIDE NOW

A cuddler

Like he will latch on you like it's the end of the world.

hope you don't need pee y/n

he looks like he has been knocked

OMG Is he breathing?!

yes

you don't need to call the police he's fine that's just how he sleeps

If you do somehow wake him up he will let you do what you need too

won't stop complaining that you're taking too long😒

holds your hand when you come back and cuddles you when you’re sleeping💜

WILL TAKE IT TO HIS GRAVE THAT HE DIDN'T ENJOY IT

SAYS THAT YOU WERE THE ONE THAT WANTED TO CUDDLE

"I would never cuddle you gross you probably got cooties"

"I don't"

"and plus you seemed cold so I just wrapped my Arms around you"

"It was hot last night?"

he got quite real quick

that was the conversation yall had the next morning

Deuce

call the ambulance/or room service

going through the 5 stages of grief in 10 seconds

the only woman he slept with was his mom when he was a kid

you're just knocked out since being ramshackle prefect is hard

hesitantly. VERY hesitantly climbs in bed with you

doesn't want to wake you up for the life of him

You know that careful SpongeBob meme that's him.

poor boy is so stiff 🤧

would try to get out of bed to sleep on the floor.

woke you up in the process

apologizes, maybe even start getting upset

Comfort him y/nnie right now

you would tell him to go to sleep or at least try to sleep while you're in the bathroom

you're just playing on your phone waiting for him to sleep

"Carter deuce won't sleep how do you make him sleep"

"idk lol"

"ok"

he's asleep when you come back

you are a cuddler now I don't make the rules

very light sleeper

he will feel you cuddling him but will try to go back to sleep.

when he wakes up he thinks you look pretty

wakes you up gently

100% tells his mom about it

Jack

he doesn't mind

his tail is swaying pretty fast tho??🤨🤨

asks you if you want him to sleep on the floor

tail speeds up when you say no

you sit on the bed to watch TV and he comes out of the bathroom with silk pajamas?

your sleepy so you're sleeping first

turns off the TV for you

he's the type to read before bed ill die on this hill

he's reading his book when you just rested your head on his man boobs chest.

On the outside he's like (・・ ) ?

but it's a lie he is throwing a party in his head

Puts his book down and turns off the side lamp

puts his arms around you💜💜💜

it's like a free heater

his tail rests on your side as he cuddles you

You're smug cause your a lil faker you ain't really asleep huh

You rn:<(￣︶￣)>

you thought you ate huh? Well you did. Left no crumbs🥲

would wake up before you and when you ask if he cuddled you he would be like

"uhhh no????"

but he did enjoy that little moment when you used his chest as a pillow.

Source:trust me bro

Epel

Kicking crying screaming/j

he would be a bit upset since he would hope he would be a bit more buff so if you cuddle together you can feel safe💙

eyebrows immediately go straight down. But stops because he knows vil or Rook is about to lecture how he would get wrinkles

wears silk pajamas but hates it (vil made him wear it)

but if you like them he loves them

orders pizza and watches TV with you *it's a horror movie*

yall went to sleep at like 2am cause yall were scared lol

tries to say something romantic but fails terribly

Naw it probably was like

"epel I'm scared to sleep with if I lose my toes😭"

"Its okay mah wittle cotton swab I'll protect ya"

"Room service "

"AHHHHHHH!!!!"

He screamed like a dying bird, the poor room service was so upset you had to reassure the woman that you watched a horror movie and that she did nothing wrong.

he latched to you like a leech when he fell asleep

his hands are so cold like??? Did you just come back from Antarctica? Why tf are you so cold

you tried to wiggle out his grasp but it was hard cause he was strong in his sleep.

you eventually fell asleep and cuddled him back

He wasn't even asleep he was faking it like you did with Jack

texts Jack about it

tries to act tough in the morning

failed again lol

"Huh why am I so cold?"

……

"WHATS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN PREFECT!?"

…..

"You felt safe?...lol as you should"

"Wait no I'm sorry y/n"

Sebek

why? Why would you do this to yourself?

You know what's gonna happen,Yet you still gonna do it?

you're getting your license revoked and blocked/j

he's mad HOW DARE THEY TELL ME TO SLEEP WITH THIS LOWLY HUMAN

he tries to sleep on the floor but you were like no 👹

talks about how his waka Sama is so peaceful at night and how you can't compare.

He snores loud af😒

how does he know how tf mallues is at night does he watch him sleep???😭

Wears old man pajamas

after changing he lays on the bed

he is like a plank😭😭 his whole body is straight like doesn't that hurt???

You fall asleep and cuddle him

is about to wake you up but he see your quote on quote cute-ish face so calmly sleeping

blushes he thinks your kinda ugly but one..….ONE percent cute

take that as a compliment

low-key when you saw him sleeping the next morning with one arm around your waist you lost your bet with Ace

The Bet was that if he sleeped or not

pay your money y/nnie or else you about to be in debt 💜

denies that he ever had his arm around your waist

YOU THINK ONE OF LORD MALLUES GUARDS WOULD SLEEP WITH A PATHETIC HUMAN EVEN CUDDLE IT?!

"ya"

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lamportb · 3 months

Text

The stitch up

Finally have a minute to re watch episode 4. Rambling below

Love Fagin and Jack covered in viscera in Gaines’ carriage with his wife. “My colleague and I were burying a cadaver” A+ excuse Jack, totally explains why you aren’t wearing pants.

I didn’t notice just how clear it is that Lady Jane is the real governor of the colony. Don’t love her as an obstacle to true love, but I Stan a powerful smart lady.

Hetty is a queen. “All right! Time to check your rose bushes” while she makes the rounds in the brothel, then single handedly loads Rotty in a cart to haul her to the hospital. Also ignores Sneed and gets Jack when it’s clear the first surgery didn’t work.

When Belle goes to observe the surgery Sneed suggests that the surgical theatre is too gory for her and that she should read to the patients instead “some of them can barely read”. Cue pointed look at Jack. I didn’t pick up on this the first time.

Belle also tells Jack that her father paid for Sneed’s medical training! Talk about having connections.

Jack is soooo baby soft when Belle offers to help him. His eyes change. It’s perfection.

despite hating Jack, Sneed still defends him when Gaines is looking for reasons to arrest him. More reason I love that pompous git.

Seriously, there’s not a filler scene anywhere in this series.

Gaines trashes Jack’s room and threatens him with handing and/or flogging to death. Jack has JUST had this very hopeful conversation with Belle and here he is on his bed holding the trampled remains of his signature top hat - the Dodge dilemma. How can he hang it up permanently, and does he want to?

“sniffly Sneed” 😂

dodger hat back on when sneaking around the governor’s yard to find Belle. “We don’t pay for cadavers. We just… borrow them”

11 o’clock cadaver date is the hottest thing Belle has ever heard.

I love Tim and I love how he loves Red.

Fanny is so excited by the idea that Sneed’s medical knowledge will make him a good lover. Yeah…

Jack the savant surgeon - eyes closed in concentration. Lovely.

Jack is illiterate clue 2: he is so unsettled at the idea of being found out he just nopes himself right out of the situation and leaves Belle in the operating theatre at presumably midnight or later. Lol.

“the white ghost who’s close to his grave” should be my new tag for Fagin

Red is so fucking cool

Feels like a very deliberate choice for Belle to let her hair down when she joins Jack in the surgery. Maybe because of the conversation with Fanny about going for it? (Finding love with Sneed?). Also how did Belle know to be there? Tim says they can do the second surgery because Sneed left the hospital. Did Jack just have her hiding on standby? Was it a coincidence? I don’t care - she looks gorgeous.

lots has already been mentioned about the Hetty/Jack/Belle situation but I appreciate the framing of this scene with the three of them - both women assisting in their own way, and both necessary to Jack’s success.

Belle seems genuinely taken aback when Jack is so abrupt with her when the surgery starts, but her relief when she helps him in the end and he smiles at her is so sweet. She is basking in that smile - I don’t think I realized how fast she fell for him. (Of course they start arguing about publication and the moment passes)

“I shall be turned around as a curiosity” - some more insight into Jack’s insecurities.

Lady Jane: “Have you been alone with the surgeon?” Belle: “There’s always another body in the room” 😂

What time is this dinner starting? 2pm? It’s so bright!

love Sneed and the prof arriving in a carriage while Jack walks up in his Navy uniform.

Note to self: research the siege of Sevastopol.

Ah! Jack describes his time as a naval surgeon as “nothing more than butchery” to Lady Jane. Those words sting all the more when she uses them against him later.

Fanny and Belle are both terrible at flirting. Belle can’t stop interrupting to talk up Jack and Fanny can’t stop staring. “I love soup”

I also love how Jack is SO UNCOMFORTABLE with Belle praising him at the table. She’s not lying, but her embellishments are so unnerving to him. “Really, it’s nothing” - but she just. Can’t. Stop.

Jack really is trying. He takes responsibility for Fagin not knowing what the plan is. He tries to fit in. Seems a bit harsh to snap at Belle but she was terrible at reading his cues - like this is her surgical theatre and he has to defer to her expertise. It’s too vulnerable for him.

“I AM rare!” Have i mentioned how much I love the ladies in this show??

Jack’s little voice crack when he blurts out “I CAN read!” And then a little softer “I can read, just not very well”

All her talk of teams and partnerships - she really did bet on him. All in.

”You can take the boy out of East London but you really shouldn’t”

”Belle will never speak to me again” right before taking Fagin’s share of the money and heading to the card table

whew! Gold star if you got this far.

#the artful dodger #dodgerfox #Thinky thoughts #episode commentary #should I do more of these?

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parvuls · 1 year

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jack retires because of a leg injury and takes off to a small massachusetts town, still recovering physically and mentally. he spends his first few months in town getting accustomed to life without hockey, to bi-weekly therapy sessions, to walking with a cane. he spends most of those months angry - at the pain, at his limited mobility, at the world. he doesn't have much patience for others, and puts very little energy towards socializing with the locals.

by the time the next fall comes around, he's been through enough therapy, physical and otherwise, and actually looks forward to being home all halloween for the first time in years. to see the kids go trick or treating, maybe unearth his camera and take pictures of the festivities. maybe even participate in something. start feeling like part of a community again.

but when halloween comes, jack spends all night on his couch, alone, holding a full-to-the-brim bowl of handmade candy. no one comes to knock on his door. because kids judge quickly, and parents are slow to trust, and his first few months in town were enough to establish a reputation as someone to be avoided.

he stays up later than he has since he was a teenager, but when it becomes clear that no one is going to stop at his house he dumps all three bags of the halloween treats he ordered special - none of that chemically manufactured shit that's so bad for kids - and puts them out front, to be picked up with his garbage. and then he goes to bed, and tries very hard not to think.

bitty opens his bakery early. he happens to walk past jack's house on his way to work, and recognizes the bags sitting out front; it's hard to forget that order, from the man who asked him question after question about the ingredients of the candy he'd be giving to kids on halloween. bitty made him a candy-cane inspired sweet in the form of a hockey stick, and watched the man crack the first smile bitty's seen from him since he moved to town.

but the bags are all full out here on the sidewalk. and although bitty wishes he didn't know why, he can make a pretty good guess. he was new to town, once, too.

it's hard to purposely bump into someone who keeps to himself as much as mr. zimmermann does, but bitty is nothing if not determined. he stops by mr. zimmermann's cart when they're both out grocery shopping and makes sure to exchange small talk with him, just loudly enough for others to overhear. he moves his daily run from the evening to the early morning, although it's torture to get up even earlier than he already does, so the jogging crowd spots him running into mr. zimmermann and waving cheerfully. it's the little things. and if bitty can make one of his neighbors feel more at home, then he darn well will.

gradually, little by little, mr. zimmermann starts opening up. insists that bitty call him jack. keeps walking with bitty all the way to the register when they're both out grocery shopping, while gravely telling him about the importance of eating clean. changes his running route so bitty and he start their loop around the park at the same time, and when it gets colder, brings another set of gloves along because bitty always forgets his. bitty's not even sure how jack figured that out.

and it's other things, too. one day mrs. sylvester who lives down the street tells bitty that jack joined the book club, and while he never says much, she swears he reads all the books. ms. bishop, who works at city hall and can't keep a secret to save her life, leans over to bitty during their shared pilates class and whispers that she's not supposed to tell, but someone made a big donation to the town's community center. principal stacy announces the annual career day at the elementary school, and unsubtly suggests that perhaps new residents with unusual career paths may like to sign up.

the next halloween, jack spends all night on his front porch, wearing cat ears and whiskers drawn in eyeliner, with his arm around bitty's shoulders and a constantly emptying bowl of handmade candy in his lap.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits #all of my feelings about jack building a new life after hockey just spilled onto the paper I'm so sorry #I have a huge thing for rebuilding and healing arcs #text #pavfics

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callofdudes · 10 months

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Guys, guys! I know there are a lot of AU's out there but I am BEGGING you to consider a Space/Astronaut AU!! I'm begging!

Like Ghost and Soap wearing those cool pants and the shirts. The outfits alone. And Soap knows all the really fancy space stuff and likes to fix up odds and ends of the space station.

He likes to thrust himself off the walls and whatnot when he's bored.

Ghost sits upside down on the ceiling of the space station. Just close his eyes and crisscross on the ceiling. Or laying flat on his back and Soap will come over under him and they just talk like that.

They get to spend a bunch of time out in space looking at everything around them. Existential conversations and cool space stuff.

And they get to go around outside the station in their suits to fix something up. They can flirt in the middle of space!!

And it's calm and quiet and all that good stuff. If Price and Gaz are up there with them that would be amazing.

And they get to actively shit on Graves who works down in the control station because he's a living nightmare. Hates Soap because he got into the program instead of him so now whenever they ask for more supplies he specifically takes off certain requested items just to be petty. And he can get away with it because he's Shepherd's golden child.

Ghost and Price talking shit about the food packs they get while Price sits in one of those fancy chairs and Ghost talks to him from upside down on the ceiling. 😭

~~~~~

"You better keep your head up Johnny, I ain't going out there to rescue you if you float away."

"Awa' an bile yer heid."

Simon chuckles, watching Johnny on the camera control as he fixes up the docking port for a new shipment of supplies they were to receive in a weeks time.

"You think they'll get you those cookies??"

Johnny scoffed. "Ah doubt it, that guy in mission control seems to hate my guts. What's his name?"

"Phillip..." They both drawl in unison.

~~~~~

"I wonder how long it would take us to get there."

Price sighed. "Simon, we talked about this. No more talking about jumping into black hole."

"But it's a giant vacuum. Would rip me apart. Would rip us apart."

"No talking about dragging your mates into black holes either."

Simon chuckled, continuing to swipe through the photos the satellite had taken earlier that morning while bobbing along the ceiling.

~~~~~

"Looks like someone ran out of gell." Kyle snickered when Johnny hopped up from his pod.

"Oh shush." Johnny patted his hair, attempting to get it to stay but it was no use. "bloody space gravity." He cursed.

~~~~~

*Insert intense GhostSoap space kiss*

~~~~~

Kyle took a deep breath, immediately regretting it and choking on air. "Oh fuck-" He wheezed.

Simon squinted. "Ew... Earth..."

Johnny bent over, feeling his spine being crushed as Price patted his back and helped him with his throw up bag. A regular occurrence.

"Why is it so... Moist. I don't like it." Simon crossed his arms, feeling 30 years older than he actually was under the new gravity.

Johnny kept throwing up.

"You ok son?" Price asked, patting his back.

Johnny just gave him a thumbs up.

"We look stupid as shit right now." Kyle whispered to Simon as their entire space team and friends and family watched the scene.

Simon nodded in agreement. "Yeah, yeah we do..."

~~~~~

Guys please there is so much potential I want to write a GhostSoap space/astronauts AU for them y'all. I have so many ideas and thoughts in my brain for this I wish I could get it all out coherently but I'm choking back dumping it all on you guys right now.

I know Jack shit about space but that won't stop me!

#Please yall i need to feed my brain these yummies #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #space au #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost

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margowritesthings · 1 year

Text

...For They Shall Obtain Mercy

Part 2 of 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐎𝐛𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲

[Read Part 1 by @cowboydisaster Here]

pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader

word count: 2779

warnings: major character death, rdr2 spoilers, angst, violence, grief, loss, this destroyed me to write

a/n: here it is... my part of the 'Blessed Are The Merciful, For They Shall Obtain Mercy' series with the incredible Bre! I'm honoured to have collaborated with such a talented soul! Hope y’all enjoy because this one hurt…

tagging: @cowboydisaster @cassidylynnj @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @reaveries @elifsukirdaghehe

“I’m real sorry for you, son, it’s a hell of a thing.”

Arthur’s ears are ringing, part from the pure exhaustion failing to push the blood around his veins, part the doctor’s distant words. He feels miles away, despite the fact that Arthur is sitting only feet away from the man.

Tuberculosis?

“Well, what you mean?” He somehow manages to stutter out, feeling his heart struggle to pound against his chest. His mind is racing, the only part of him that doesn’t seem to have slowed recently, but he can’t seem to decipher anything running through it. Except you, of course. You’re always there.

“You’re real sick. It’s a progressive disease. You’ll be…”

Gone.

The man trails off and Arthur knows. He knows in the way the doctor’s eyes shift away from him, unable to maintain eye contact. It’s the exact way Grimshaw’s did those months ago, when Arthur’s world fell apart before him. The doctor looks so uncomfortable Arthur almost feels sorry for him, but it’s wasted. He doesn’t need to feel like he’s saying anything but exactly what Arthur wants to hear.

Say it. Say I’ll be dead and gone. Give me weeks, days.

I want to be with her.

But the doctor just can’t bring himself to say it. To give Arthur the goddamn relief he has yearned for since that bullet tore through everything he has ever loved, everything he lived for.

“Well, the best thing is rest, getting somewhere warm and dry and taking it easy. Is that possible?”

Arthur could laugh at the question, were he not certain that it would set him off in that painful cough again that reddened the corners of his vision. He shakes his head, responding weakly.

“No. It’s not possible.” There’s no anger there, no fire in his tone, just a weariness he’s worn since you left, and an acceptance he hasn’t felt in just as long.

And he can see the last of his days playing out before him. Rest will prolong it all, so rest there shall not be. God willing, he has precious little time to get his affairs in order. He’ll have to work hard, earn enough money to help John, Jack and Abigail get out of the gang for good. He’ll try to get through to Dutch, try not to leave the only family he’s ever known in the grasps of that rat bastard Micah. And then, once he’s watched the Marston’s ride off into the sunset, he can finally come home to you.

The man sitting across from Arthur wears an expression so stricken with pity it almost hurts, but nonetheless he pulls a wooden pipe out of the pocket of his lab coat and strikes a match, lighting the tobacco stuffed inside. There’s a pause, a moment where all that can be heard is the sizzle of dry leaves burning while the doctor takes his first toke.

“Well, like I said. I’m real sorry.”

I’m not.

═══════☆═══════

The first place Arthur rides to once leaving the doctor’s office is your grave. After your death, he took your horse, rode your body out of Shady Bell, and buried you in one of your favourite spots near the lake. It’s secluded but beautiful, close by to the spot he first told you he loved you. He visits often, sitting with you, telling you stories of the gang. Sometimes he just sits in silence, grasping for just the slightest hint of your energy. He always brings violets, your favourites. Today is no exception.

He rides as fast as he can, his ailing bones aching but determination driving him back to the closest thing he has to you for now.

He dismounts his mare, rewarding her with a sugar cube to thank her for her power and speed when he needs it the most, before carefully taking the violets from his satchel and turning to your final resting place.

It is only a few steps before he’s right beside your grave. He often rides right up, knowing you’d like to see the horses (whenever he can, he takes your horse, but today he’s with his own).

“Hey, sweetheart.” He slides to his knees in front of where you’re buried, weary joints thankful for the soft dirt beneath them.

Arthur busies his hands by picking out any flowers that have dried since he was last here and replacing them with his fresh ones, making a mental note to ask Charles to do the same whenever he gets the chance, make sure your spot is looked after once he’s gone.

“I, uh… I got some news for ya’.” The first few times Arthur spoke to you, he was reserved, almost awkward, not really knowing how to say what he wanted to. But he soon got used to it and speaks so naturally now, so openly, as if you’re really sitting there with him. He knows, deep down, that you are.

“I’m gonna be with ya’, darlin’. Real soon, actually.” He can’t help the smile that creeps right up from his heart to his face.

Maybe in another life, one without you, Arthur would have seen this end as a punishment. God striking the wicked, the outlaw who killed and robbed and used his name in vain whenever he goddamn pleased, but no. In this life, he sees it for what it is: mercy.

The second your heart stopped beating, Arthur’s sentence began. His sins were paid for with your life while he was left standing with nothing but a scar on his arm from a bullet graze, forced to learn to do this with only one half of his soul, forced to take each laboured breath alone again and again despite wanting anything but.

And finally, after serving his time, he shall be granted the mercy of rest.

“Now, I know what you’re thinkin’ and I ain’t givin’ up. I promised ya’ I wouldn’t. But I’m sick… real sick, doctor says.”

Once he’s sorted through the flowers, Arthur stills, his hand resting on the wooden headstone he crafted for you. For the first time, he notices just how pale and splotchy his complexion is, how thin his wrist looks in his sleeve. It calls upon a strange mix of emotion and he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“I’ve got a plan- and don’t be goin’ on about how I sound like Dutch, I know… but I’m gonna get John out. Abigail, too, and Jack. I’m gonna work real hard and get them safe, then I’ll be right with you.”

Arthur shifts to sit rather than kneel, reaching into his collar and pulling out the golden chain around his neck, your engagement ring swaying slightly in the air before he drops it into his palm. The metal presses a little circle into his skin when he squeezes, imagining your fingers entangled in his in that perfect fit he’d kill to feel one last time. His breath is shaky as he exhales slowly, closing his eyes and focusing in on the sensation of the cold metal on his clammy skin.

He’s ready, he knows that much is true, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still scared. He needs you, now more than ever, as he stands at the edge of the complete unknown. But he has to do this last stretch alone. One last ride before it’s finally over.

“I’m comin’, darlin’. Wait up for me, okay?”

═══════☆═══════

Tensions get progressively higher in the gang and Arthur loses hope for Dutch, but he never stops fighting for John, Abigail and Jack. He pushes himself to the very limit of what his body can do before it gives out, saving every cent he can. Micah sinks his claws in further and further, the atmosphere around camp gets darker.

When Sadie figures it out, there’s a quiet knowing that can only come from losing your soulmate. She’s devastated at the thought of losing Arthur, but she knows she’d give anything and everything to see her Jackey again. She knows he’d do the same to be with you, to have the mercy of no longer having to go on without your heart.

Charles is the same. He hasn’t lost in the same way Arthur and Sadie have, but he understands. He promises Arthur he will make sure your grave is looked after.

Arthur doesn’t tell anybody else outright, but they know. Nobody talks about it, except Micah, but they lost the Arthur they knew and loved the same day they lost you. They all sort through the sadness and gain the same clarity Arthur had the second that the doctor looked at him like a dying man: this is mercy, in that twisted way that only those who have lost everything can ever really comprehend.

He gets weaker, sometimes collapsing while out on jobs, waking up in widow’s houses or goddamn Guarma, of all places, for a few weeks there. Every time he loses consciousness, he hopes he’ll find you waiting for him, but the lord isn’t that kind just yet.

His body holds on for just that bit longer, until one day he’s standing in front of a mirror just after a bath and he can barely recognise himself. His eyes have hollowed, and no matter how much he eats his skin seems to hang on his bones awkwardly. It’s a striking, painful sight after so long of his worth being pinned on his title of Dutch’s muscle, but it’s a reminder that he can’t carry on forever.

Good.

═══════☆═══════

Everything comes to a head at Bacchus Bridge. ‘One last job’, as Dutch calls it. And Arthur knows he’s right.

One last job and I’ll be with ya’.

When it all falls apart, Arthur uses the absolute last of his strength to rescue Abigail from Milton and saves John. They run from Micah together, until Arthur just can’t run anymore.

“Alright, Arthur, come on. Let’s go.” John pleads, his chest sinking when he sees Arthur leaning on his knees, gasping for breath.

“You go…” he manages in a breath, barely audible.

“Keep pushing, Arthur.”

And Arthur knows.

“No… no, I think I’ve pushed all I can.”

It’s time.

“Come on.”

“You go.”

He can’t fight anymore.

“We ain’t got time for this. Not now.”

There’s a second shared between the two brothers where everything hangs in the air. All those years where it was John and Arthur against the world, all those jobs and fights and heartbreak and near misses and first loves and last loves and two lives lived dangerously and wholly side by side. It all ends now, with John, who is desperately holding on, and Arthur, who let go a long time ago.

“We ain’t both gonna make it. Go. Now. I’ll hold them off.” John has never heard Arthur sound so physically weak, but his strength is in his sacrifice, it’s in the determined way he takes off his hat and places it on John’s head, pressing it securely down.

There’s still a hesitation, John’s unwillingness to leave his brother behind and carry on without him, his lingering final promise to you that he’d look after Arthur, but he says nothing. He realises that Arthur just can’t do it any more. He knows he wants to be with you, more than anything. And who is John to stop him.

“It would mean a lot to me. Please.” Arthur’s voice breaks on his last plea, begging John to let him make his final sacrifice for his family. He places a hand on John’s shoulder, resting his weight into him for a brief moment, the last time he’ll ever lean on his brother. John is silent, resigned. He knows there is no changing Arthur’s mind, especially when he pulls his satchel off his shoulder and hangs it around John’s. He doesn’t need it where he’s going.

“There ain’t no more time for talk… go.” he mutters, a gunshot echoing in the distance as a reminder of why they’re running. If Arthur is going to do this, if John is going to get out safe with his family, it has to be now. Arthur turns to walk away, and all John can do is shout his name one last time, one last ditch attempt to keep his final promise to you, but his tone loses all its push.

“Arthur…”

“Get the hell outta here and be a goddamn man! Go to your family… I’m goin’ to mine.”

═══════☆═══════

Once Arthur knows the Marstons are safe, he has seldom left to lose. He gives it all one last push, fighting Micah until his body gives in and then some.

“I’m a survivor, black lung. That’s all there is to it.” He sneers, Arthur’s blood splattering against his knuckles with each blow, “Not like you, or your pretty little girlfriend. What was her name, again? I forget.”

A surge of energy, and he’s certain it’s you right there beside him, pushes Arthur off the ground. He manages to overpower Micah just enough to push him off the ledge. They both fall quite a height and the very last of Arthur’s air is knocked straight out of his chest and god it hurts so bad but all he can do is carry on fighting.

Not long now, my love.

Punches are thrown from both sides and it’s soon quite difficult to tell who is covered in whose blood. Arthur is running on pure fury and adrenaline now and he’s not sure how much he has left, but it surges when Micah says “still got a little fight in you, have you boy?”

“I fight for her.” He wheezes, lunging forwards and striking Micah in the eye, sending him falling backwards.

Arthur tries to drag the air into his lungs, but it’s tough. He can feel each manual function in his body failing, feel the coldness creeping up his spine.

Micah struggles back to his feet and before Arthur even knows what’s happening, he’s hit across the face hard and falls to the floor. The scraping of gunmetal against rock is so striking amongst the visceral sounds of man fighting man as Arthur’s pistol falls to the ground and slides right to the edge of the cliff.

Arthur can’t stand. He’s running out of steam, but he has to reach that gun. He crawls, scraping his bare hands against the floor desperately, the very last push. The very last push before he’s with you.

“Oh, black lung, you ain’t gonna reach that gun.” Micah taunts, “You lost, my sick friend. You lost.”

All Arthur can do, despite everything, is smile.

He tried to lose, he really did. When he lost you, Arthur did everything he could to lose this sick game God was playing with him. He lost himself, he lost his purpose. But then, on his last day in this world, he saved Abigail from Milton, and with some of the last breath in his bones, he got John and his family out. And now? You’re so close he can almost reach out and touch you. You’re waiting for him, he knows that. So how could he have lost?

“In the end… despite my best efforts to the contrary… it turns out I’ve won.”

═══════☆═══════

In the end, Arthur couldn’t get through to Dutch, but what’s done is done. He left, and Micah hobbled away, leaving Arthur to live his final moments alone.

They say a man’s life flashes before his eyes in his final moments, but they’re wrong. Arthur doesn’t see the jobs or the money, the strifes and the cells, he only sees the good parts. He sees you, laughing as you pounce onto him, pushing him down in the grass. He sees himself picking you up and twirling you around after not seeing you for a few days. He sees the way your face lights up as you realise what he’s doing all the way down there on one knee, a shaking hand holding out a ring to you.

The sun is setting, casting the most beautiful orange glow over the cowboy. He looks over, watching the clouds wisp around the orb while letting his laboured breaths slow.

“I’m comin’, darlin…” he whispers, barely audible anymore but it doesn’t matter. You can hear him.

With the very last of his energy, Arthur’s brows pull together ever so slightly as he notices a shadow cast over him. He looks up, watching as a doe stalks towards him, bowing her head right beside him. She nudges her head against his, and Arthur knows it’s time to let go.

You’re here for him.

It’s time to come home.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan angst #rdr2 fanfic

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sam24 · 1 month

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Darcy's Chronicles

Summary: Being the school's star football player, everyone knew Steve Rogers. He was kind, funny, handsome, and no doubt absolutely jacked. He basically looked like an angel that fell from heaven . . . that also happened to land directly on top of you, the sport medicine major who was just trying to do her job.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

college au | athlete steve

_____

GAME 1

You stood on the sideline of the noisy football field, foot tapping and fingers drumming against the water bottle carrier you were assigned to hold. The vibrant energy of the stadium was deafening, and the hollers and screams coming from the stands behind you were enough to make you cringe.

Your feet ached underneath you, and you shifted your weight onto the other foot, mentally cursing yourself for not choosing a major where you could just sit in a damn seat.

Instead, you were here, standing in the humid night air and handing water bottles to sweaty men wearing shoulder pads. You glanced over longingly behind you at your friends sitting in the bleachers, making a face when Natasha stuck her tongue out at you mockingly.

However, you felt Dr. Cho’s watchful eyes on the back of your head, so you decided to play nice and turn back around towards the game.

Luckily, you had Darcy to keep you company.

“Tell us what you’re thinking, Ms. Future Trainer,” she said as she shoved her microphone into her face. “Are we gonna have any grave injuries to any of our players tonight?”

“Are you suggesting that we’re hoping for grave injuries tonight, Darcy?”

“Stop being a smartass,” Darcy made a face at you. “Just tell us what you think.”

You swatted at the microphone that she was holding way too close to your mouth. “Well, what I think is that Professor Hill sent you to interview the players and the coaches, not me.”

Darcy just waved you off and turned to her cameraman. “She’s just playing hard to get. She loves it when I do this kinda stuff.”

“Love is definitely a stretch, Darcy,” you rolled your eyes. “Now go scram before Dr. Cho catches me slacking off.”

“Calm down, Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes, Cho’s not even looking.” Darcy flipped her hair over her shoulder and put on her best announcer voice. “Now tell us: I’m sure, being a sports medicine major and a suck up to Dr. Cho, head of the athletic training department, you’ve been taken along to many practices and games this season-”

“This is literally the season’s first game.”

“Whatever, don’t interrupt me.” She looked at her cameraman with a “Can you believe this chick?” look on her face. “Anyways, so, of course, you probably have spent a lot of time with these smoking hot football boys. So, tell the camera with pride, which one of these men would you make out in the locker room with?”

You shot Darcy a look of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

She grinned mischievously, undeterred. “Don’t be shy, Doctor. We all know you’ve been eyeing them like a hawk.”

“Eyeing them is literally in my job description,” you shot back.

“Touché,” she replied with a shrug, but leaned in conspiratorially. Of course, the cameraman leaned in with her. “But seriously, who’s your locker room fantasy?”

You stared at her wordlessly.

“Fine, let's make this easier. I’ll give you some options to choose from.” She didn’t seem to mind the exasperated groan that left your mouth. “Option A: Quarterback Bucky Barnes with the bedroom eyes. Option B: Tight end Thor with those huge fucking shoulders. Option C: Linebacker Captain Blondie-”

Then everything happened at the same time.

Darcy stopped talking, which was very much unlike her, as her eyes widened and she backed away. You noticed the crowd got even louder with chaos, and your ears caught the announcers’ voices before you could turn around to face the game.

“Rogers and Davis fightin’ over that ball-”

“Looks like they’re headed straight for the sideline-”

You started to turn, but before you could think, you were flat on your back, completely crushed underneath a brick wall.

Oh wait.

That was a person.

“Holy Mother of- fuck!” You quite literally saw stars as you grimaced in pain. It felt like a semi truck had run over your ribs. You slowly opened your eyes, finding a blurry sight of people standing around you like you were a patient in a hospital bed waking up after a surgery.

However, the most prominent sight was the concerned face of Steve Rogers inches away from yours, whose helmet was thrown off somewhere to the side.

“Am I dead?” You managed to croak out.

He looked a bit amused at your dramatic question- a little too amused for your liking, considering the fact he had just almost killed you. “Uh, no?”

The two of you just stared at each other until you snapped. “Get off of me, you human wrecking ball!”

You heard Darcy cackle somewhere next to you. “Are you getting all of this, Scott? Don’t you dare turn that camera off.”

You unsuccessfully attempted to push him off before he came to his senses and clambered off of you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He extended his arm out to help you up.

“Am I okay? Really? Buddy, you just pancaked me into a fucking omelette!” You stubbornly ignored his hand, bringing yourself up to a sitting position with a wince.

Steve looked like he was trying not to laugh at the annoyance painted across your face, but you could see genuine guilt in his eyes. “I know, I know, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Darcy, unlike Steve, couldn’t contain her laughter. “Oh, this is gold! Keep it coming, guys!”

“A ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna unflatten me.”

Steve’s lips twitched with suppressed amusement. “How about multiple sorries?” He pulled his hand back to rest on his hips, realizing you weren’t going to take his help any time soon.

“Real funny.” You rolled your eyes.

He flashed you an apologetic grin, re-extending his hand out to help you up. “You gonna sit around on the ground for the rest of the night or something?”

“Or something.” You nodded with a shrug.

“All right then,” he raised an eyebrow with a grin. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to help you off the ground.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to send up a flare,” you deadpanned.

Before he could say anything else, Coach Fury, along with other men in headsets, came up from behind Steve and clapped him on the shoulder, shoving his dropped helmet into his arms. “Enough flirting, Rogers. Get back on that field.”

“We weren’t-” Steve started with a flushed face.

Fury interrupted him as he turned towards you, and you suddenly wished you had taken Steve’s help earlier as Fury eyed you up and down while you sat in the grass, no doubt looking stupid.

“Make sure you're paying attention to the game, Missy. Can’t have Cho’s trainers getting taken out by my boys.”

You nodded quickly in embarrassment, giving Steve the stink eye as soon as Fury stopped eyeing you, though you could still feel Dr. Cho’s amused eyes on you.

The coach shoved him towards the field as Steve looked over his shoulder at you, laughing as you gave him the middle finger with a badly hidden smile.

GAME 2

“Hey.”

You looked up from the medical kit you were checking over, finding Steve Rogers smiling sheepishly at you, fully suited up and ready for the game, cradling his helmet in his arms.

“Oh, hi there. Are you here to pulverize me again?”

“Not quite,” he grinned, and you tried not to notice how gorgeous his smile was. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright. I was looking for you after that game. Couldn’t find you though.”

“Probably because I had to be airlifted to the hospital after that vicious attack.”

Steve held up his hand in a mock oath. “Won’t do it again. Scout’s honor.”

You raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Seriously though, are you okay?”

You decided not to mess around with him, sensing the worry in his voice. “Other than a bruised ego? Nah, I’m okay.”

Steve let out a relieved sigh, and you pretended not to notice the melting of your heart. “Good to hear. And, uh, sorry again.”

You waved it off, looking back down at the medical kit you were working with. “Don’t you have other things to be doing? Like warming up or whatever.”

“Yeah, uh, I probably should get to that,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck as he made no attempt to leave.

You looked up and turned to face him, quirking an eyebrow expectantly at his flushed face. “Can I help you, Rogers?”

“Uh, kinda?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson laughing at their friend, throwing Steve some encouraging thumbs ups.

“What’s with the peanut gallery over there?” You nodded towards his teammates out on the field with a smirk.

“Nothing, uh, they’re just being annoying.” Steve glared at Bucky and Sam before turning back to you. “I just wanted to ask you if uh, you-”

“Could fill up your water bottle?” You finished his sentence with a smirk.

“Uh, that would be nice, but not exactly.”

You feigned innocence. “Oh? What else could it be?”

Steve took a breath. “If you wanted to grab some ice cream with me after the game tonight?”

“Wow! It’s happening folks!” Darcy loudly announced to the camera from a couple yards away. “Step aside, gossip column! We’ve got breaking news right here!”

You glared at Darcy before focusing back on Steve.

“Y’know, kinda like a truce?” he shrugged with a teasing smirk. “I nearly broke your ribs the other day with my superman strength, so buying you ice cream is the least I could do.”

“Calm down there, Hercules. You’re one protein shake away from bursting out of that jersey.”

Steve laughed, and your brain basically turned into mush at the sound. “So is that a yes?”

“Find me after the game.” You smiled at him before pushing him towards the field. “Now go stretch unless you feel like spraining something tonight.”

“If that means you’ll patch me up, I think I’m fine with that.” He grinned as he walked backwards, eyes trained on you.

“Not funny, Rogers,” you rolled your eyes. “Now skedaddle before I unleash the wrath of Dr. Cho on you.”

“Wow.” He was still walking backwards towards his team, not wanting to turn away from you. “You are a cruel woman.”

“Dr. Cho! This man is distracting me from-”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” He laughed as he turned around and jogged away, giving you a final glance over his shoulder.

GAME 7

You pressed down on the pump of the cooler, water spraying you in the face as you tried to refill the players’ water bottles.

“Fucking cooler-”

You felt a familiar set of strong arms wrap around your waist, and you smiled at the touch, not bothering to turn around.

“Don’t you have some sorta half-time talk thing to be attending to?”

“The half-time talk thing is over, sweetheart,” Steve mocked, kissing your shoulder. “Besides, I had to come over here and save my girl from this rabid water cooler.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you tried to wipe the water off your face with the back of your hand. “Why thank you, kind sir. What would I ever do without you and your heroic abilities?”

Steve chuckled against your skin. “Just doing my duty, ma’am. Can’t have my favorite trainer getting attacked by rogue appliances, can I?”

“Favorite, huh?” You leaned back into his embrace. “Don’t let Sharon hear that. I think she started a little crush on you while she was taping up your shoulder last week.”

Steve placed a kiss on your cheek, arms tightening around you. “Can’t blame her. Who wouldn’t fall for this charming smile?”

“Fury, for one,” you said as you elbowed him in the ribs. “If you don’t get on that field right now, even your charming smile won’t be able to save you, Rogers.”

Steve laughed, spinning you around by the waist to face him. “Fine. But first I need a kiss for good luck.”

“I’m pretty sure you already got one before the game, Rogers.” You quipped with raised eyebrows.

“Ah, but the luck definitely would’ve worn off,” he said as he pulled you closer.

“Mhm, because that’s exactly how luck works.” You nodded your head sarcastically, a playful glint in your eyes.

He shrugged innocently. “Sorry hun, I don’t make the rules.” With a boyish grin, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, pulling you into a familiar kiss that never failed to make your heart race.

“Can you feel the love tonight, folks?” You heard Darcy announce to her camera somewhere off to the side. “‘Cause I sure can!”

You pulled away from Steve, gently pushing him towards the field. “Alright Romeo, get lost before Fury bans me from the rest of your games. He’s threatened me twice already.”

He saluted with a chuckle and jogged over to the rest of his team, but not before leaning forward for one last kiss, of course.

“See ya later, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder. “Watch out for those charming linebackers.”

GAME 9

“Rogers catches a clean pass from Barnes-”

“Would you look at that! He’s sprinting downfield with a clear path-”

“Looks like he’s going all the way!”

The announcers’ voices fueled the crowd’s fervor as you and Darcy gripped each other's hands tightly. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as you watched Steve, your heart pounding in rhythm with the game. He was so close. Almost to the end zone-

All of a sudden, Steve was lying on the floor, motionless and unmoving, a stark contrast to the chaos going on around him. The giant defender loomed over him, casting a mocking shadow over Steve.

“Rogers goes down hard! That’s gotta hurt!”

The crowd went silent. Your heart leaped into your throat as the cheers turned into worried murmurs, the crowd realizing that he wasn’t about to stand up and smack his chest with pride like he usually did. Before you could even fully comprehend what had happened, you were running out to the field, your heart pounding along with your footsteps as you weaved your way around players.

You dropped down to your knees next to Steve, carefully removing his helmet, and cupping your hands to his face. Every instinct screamed at you to spring into action, to follow the protocols drilled into you during countless lectures and training sessions.

However, all you could do was trace the familiar lines of his face with desperation. Despite the torment of thoughts that clamored for your attention -check for a concussion, open up the medical kit, clear the field, wait for Dr. Cho- your body could only let you stroke his cheek softly, urging him to open his eyes and tell you he was alright.

“Steve? Honey, can you hear me?” Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper as tears welled up in your eyes, willing him to respond.

The crowd watched with hushed anticipation as Steve’s eyes fluttered open, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked at you. “Hey.”

As you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you vaguely registered Dr. Cho’s presence as she dropped down next to you, gently removing your hands from his face. He frowned dazedly at the loss of contact, so you settled for gripping his hand instead, while you kept your other hand free to help Dr. Cho.

Her neck snapped up in the direction of Bucky Barnes and the meathead that knocked Steve over, who were now involved in a heated exchange as they shoved and cursed at each other. “Shut up,” she ordered with narrowed eyes. “Both of you.”

Dr. Cho turned her attention back to Steve, who was grinning slightly with amusement. “Damn, you tell ‘em, Doc.”

A faint chuckle, that sounded more like a sob, escaped your lips at Steve’s remark as you rolled your eyes.

Steve flashed you a lopsided grin, squeezing your hand slightly. “Hey, laughter’s the best medicine, right?”

Dr. Cho shook her head with a grin. “Save the jokes for later, Rogers. Let’s get you checked out first.”

While Cho opened up her kit, you squeezed Steve’s hand. “Steve, can you tell me what day it is?”

“It’s an awesome day ‘cause I’m looking at you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his response, despite the worry gnawing at your insides as you resisted the urge to shove his shoulder at the bad joke. “Did hitting your head make you even more annoying?”

Steve’s hazy grin softened into a tender expression. “Nah,” he said gently as he reached up to wipe away a tear that had escaped your eye earlier. “Just needed to see you smile.”

“That’s cute,” Dr. Cho deadpanned as your heart warmed up at his words. “But answer the question.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“And the month?”

“October.”

“Can you tell me-”

“Are you just gonna sit there asking questions, or are you gonna call an ambulance for my player?” Fury barked, making his way to the front of the crowd of athletes and coaches.

“Take a breath, Coach Fury,” Dr. Cho instructed as she flashed a light into Steve’s eyes. “Looks like a moderate concussion to me.”

“Moderate concussion, my ass!” Bucky growled, jabbing his finger into Meathead’s chest. “This numbskull bashed Steve’s head into the fucking ground!”

“Enough,” Dr. Cho commanded with a stern look. “Let’s focus on getting Steve off the field first, then we’ll take him to the hospital if needed.”

“Wait, what about the game?” Steve mumbled.

“Don’t worry about the game. Your health comes first, stupid,” you said as you wiped your damp eyes.

Dr. Cho nodded. “She’s right. Your team can pull through by themselves, Rogers, don’t worry.” She motioned for the rest of the medical team to bring out the stretcher. “Let’s get you off the field and properly assessed.”

GAME 12

You practically jumped into Steve’s awaiting arms as you ran onto the field, squeezing him tight and laughing as he spun you around, despite the crowd of jumping people around you.

“THEY’VE DONE IT, FOLKS!” Darcy screamed maniacally into her microphone from somewhere behind you. “OUR TEAM MANAGED TO SCORE IN THE LAST 3 SECONDS OF THE GAME! WE’RE GOING TO PLAYOFFS BABY!”

He set you down and pulled you in by the waist, planting a searing kiss onto your lips. Amidst the chaos and cheers, time seemed to stand still for just a moment, the world narrowing down to the warmth of his embrace and the sweetness of his kiss. It was just you and him.

Well, it was until Darcy pulled you two apart and shoved her microphone into Steve’s face.

“That catch was abso-fucking-lutely brilliant, Rogers!” She slapped Steve’s shoulder pads roughly. “Tell the camera how you feel after that bad-ass win!”

“Isn’t this supposed to be a family-friendly broadcast, Darcy?” Steve quipped with a raised eyebrow.

“No one cares, Goldilocks. I’ll just tell Professor Hill that it showcases the raw emotions of-”

Bucky cut in, stepping in front of Steve and grabbing the mic out of her hands roughly.

“Hey!” She frowned, unsuccessfully attempting to snatch it back. “You’re interrupting my interview, you little-”

“VICTORY TASTES DAMN SWEET!” Bucky hollered into the microphone, putting his face way too close to the camera. Thor joined the party as well, jumping onto Bucky’s back and screaming incoherently into the mic as he shook the camera with his huge hands.

Darcy, somehow managing to pry the microphone out of Bucky’s sweaty hand, adjusted her glasses and plastered a smile on her face.

“You heard it first-hand, folks!” She said through clenched teeth, her voice strained as she swatted Thor’s hands off of the camera and forcibly shoved Bucky out of the frame. “Victory tastes sweet to our football heroes!”

Steve squeezed your waist, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “How ‘bout we get outta here?”

“And leave Darcy alone with these boys?” You raised an eyebrow at Steve with a smirk. “She’ll never forgive me.”

“Ehh, she’ll be alright,” Steve chuckled. “She’s got Scott with her. He can whack them with his camera if they get too rowdy.”

You glanced over at Darcy, who was trying her best to maintain her broadcast composure as she talked to the camera while Scott skillfully maneuvered Bucky and Thor out of the shot.

You leaned into Steve. “Fine, let’s make a break for it.”

Steve grinned, and without another word, the two of you slipped away from the crowd, hand in hand, heart in heart.

#mcu #steve rogers #marvel fanfiction #college au #football #marvel #steve rogers x reader

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scarlettkey · 6 months

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Top 5 favorite Ed and Stede moments in ofmd. (SPOILERS)

1. The way Blackbeard watched Stede sleep while he was injured.

2. The way Blackbeard almost jumped Stede after the "You wear fine things well.".

3. Stede's jealously with calico jack.

4. The way Blackbeard stood protectively in front of Stede while they were under attack (ofmd S2).

5. AND FINALLY FUCKIN FIVE THEIR FUCKING SHITTY ASS INN THEY OWN TOGETHER WITH IZZY GRAVE WATCHING OVER THEM. (INTENSE SOBBING THROWING UP)

#ofmd season 2 #ofmd #stedward #edstede #ed and stede #ed x stede #stede x ed #stede x blackbeard #ofmd ruined me #5 things isnt enough #i have more #so much more

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thesoftboiledegg · 1 year

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OK guys, I have a confession to make today: I am a dudebro. The tech geniuses in my Elon Musk discord sent me here to infiltrate Tumblr. I chug a Toxic Rick energy drink every morning even though it makes my bones rattle and spiders crawl at the edges of my vision. I go to Birdrick threads on Reddit, comment "is rick gay," get two downvotes and leave. Every day, I pray that Rick will say "I'm not arguing, I'm explaining why I'm right" in the show so that I can point at the shirt that I'm wearing with the same phrase on it and say "Haha, it's official now! You to want hear me say it out loud? Huh? You want me to throw that badassery right in your face? Fuck up my McDonald's order one more time, and it's coming at you!" Do it, Rick. Do it for me.

I've jacked it to Rick a few times, but I only did that because it was funny. In fact, it was funnier than everything in seasons 4-6 combined. I think that Rick and Morty has been the worst shit on TV since season three, but I haven't stopped watching it. Instead, I watch every new episode and make rage-fueled videos in my $1,000 gaming chair. This week's topic: Rick and Morty has gone woke. What was up with that joke in season five about the cops being racist? The cops aren't racist! They kill ALL races equally, Jesus Christ.

Anyway, back to Birdrick: I KNOW that Birdrick is platonic because I tell my male friends that I love them all the time. That's not romantic. In fact, I say it while looking directly into their eyes, thinking about all the great times that we had together, thinking that they should leave their bitch of a girlfriend because I know more about Rick and Morty than she ever will. I think about how hilarious it would be if we went on a long vacation and shared a hammock and watched the sun set, the light glittering on the waves as insects start to hum in the grass. Haha, it's all a joke, bro.

Once, I was DJing in a club and trying to figure out how to play Kanye West's entire discography at once when a guy handed me an acid tab with Morty's screaming face on it. I flew off into outer space and floated around until Rick picked me up in his ship. We made out for a while so that he could teach me how to make out with all the hot alien babies on Neptune. Of course, I already know how to make out with babes because I kissed a chick wearing a Rick and Morty hoodie once. She was clearly shit at it because I didn't enjoy it, and I should have known better because girls, queers and Tumblrinas don't actually like Rick and Morty. They just pretend to like it because they want male attention.

Oh, I'm sorry--CIS male attention. Is that woke enough for you? And by the way, libsharts: Rick is a CIS MALE. I would know because he runs around naked in every other episode, and I made a compilation of every scene for hard evidence. Cry about it all you want, but you're not going to win this debate. No one's looked at Rick Sanchez naked more than me!

Anyhoo, Rick called out the woke crowd in the season one classic "Raising Gazorpazorp," which brilliantly deconstructs feminazi bullshit, especially Rick's speech at the end. Something about Rick's voice really sells it. Something about the way it's so gravely but familiar at the same time, like rain hitting a tin roof while we're sipping iced tea on the porch. Do you ever feel like you're only going out with girls because all your bros are doing it?

HAHA uh, Birdrick is a sack of puke and just the thought of it makes me shit rage diarrhea. (Uh oh, was that too CRUDE for the purity police? Well, get used to it, because I have to.) If I ever see a Bird Person cosplayer on the streets of LA, I'm going to hit him with my Tesla, killing him instantly. I'm hoping that it might explode a little bit for maximum damage. In fact, I'm just going to program my Tesla to hit every pedestrian that resembles a human-sized bird. It's in Elon Musk's genius hands now!

So what the fuck has happened to Rick and Morty? That show was great before they hired women writers. I'm pretty sure that they hired a bunch of queers, too, because only a gay man would come up with that suit and tie he wore in season six. He looked way too good in that outfit. Which one of you homos designed that shit? Jesus Christ, get out of the writers' room and let the straight men take control again. If I ever win a giveaway or something and get to visit the studio, I better be surrounded by men!

Season one was just winner after winner and winner. We need to get back to the original show--the REAL show--where Rick was a cool-headed and rational scientist instead of the weeping "wah wah I'm so sad morty" baby we're stuck with now. I would know because I'm basically the real-life Rick. I say what I want, when I want. Don't like it? Too bad. You just don't want to hear the truth. Rick Sanchez walked so that white men with beards could run...to their Teslas and run over Bird Person cosplayers, killing them instantly.

And Rick USED to tell the truth. Love is a chemical reaction, nothing means anything, existence is pain, marriage is bullshit (ESPECIALLY when you're married to a female), everyone's too politically correct now, it's stupid that we can't call stuff "retarded," "PICKLE RICK!!!!!", focus on science, girls are too sensitive about everything. Wubba lubba dub dub! Shit, what does that mean again? I'm so used to saying that at parties when someone hands me a Rick and Morty bong and I just smoke whatever's in it because that's what Rick would do. I think I smoked oregano a couple of weeks ago. My nostrils have been burning ever since, but I'm sure it's fine. Nothing can kill a man who pounds Toxic Rick energy drinks!

Haha, wouldn't it be funny if I left the last two words off that last sentence? That would be the funniest shit ever. I'm crying with laughter!

People didn't understand Dan Harmon's genius when they whined about the show, and it apparently made him so depressed that he gave up and surrendered to the woke crowd. Christ, I hate the Internet. I only get on here to check Reddit, scroll through Elon Musk's Twitter feed and see if Dan Harmon updated his Instagram. He reminds me of Rick a lot. They're both geniuses, but the major difference with Dan Harmon is that he's got that scraggly beard. It's probably scratchy when you make out with him. I took a bunch of molly at a party once and kissed a guy who looked like a lumberjack because I thought he was a lady lumberjack, and his beard was pretty scratchy. I said "Wow, that's what kissing Dan Harmon is like!" And he said "Want to go back to my place?" And I said "Fuck no, you're not ACTUALLY Dan Harmon." LOL!!!!!!!

Remember when I mentioned McDonald's at the start? I've been in Mickey D's this whole time, and if you're wondering how I had time to type this, it's because the 16-year-old fucktards behind the counter don't know what they're doing. (And yes, I'm getting McNuggets! Haha! #szechaunsauce) Rick wouldn't put up with this shit. Not only is he a badass, but he's got badass friends all over the galaxy who would back him up. I had a dream a month ago where Rick was hanging out with these buff guys that were probably his personal bodyguards. Some weird stuff happened, and when I told my therapist about it, she said "It sounds like you had a dream about Rick having sex with a group of men," and I said "No, I didn't," and she said "You just loudly and audibly said that you had a dream about Rick having sex with a group of men," and I said "Haha, I was manipulating you! I'm a master manipulator like Rick! It was a social experiment! What made you think about gay sex anyway? If I said 'And then Rick got gangbanged by a bunch of dudes' and you immediately thought 'Wow, it sounds like you had a gay sex dream,' that's on you, honey! Hear me? THAT'S ON YOU!!!'"

So, uh...

Let's close this off with a classic: Wubba lubba dub dub! Haha. Anyway, since you Tumblrites love analyzing every frame of every episode because it makes you feel like you "get it" (spoiler alert: you don't), why is this GIF so hypnotic? I've been watching it for twenty minutes and can't figure it out.

Lord have mercy.

#sorry everyone I had to get this off my chest #me #rick and morty #rick sanchez #april fools

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sunnydayroleplay · 1 year

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Ooooh I saw your post asking for headcanons to write and I think I got just the thing for ya!

So, we know all good and well that ol' Joey getting stuck in that tape broke him just a little bit and turned him into Jack a little more permanently. However, I'm not so convinced he wasn't still having the occassional breakdown/existential crisis. What if, when MC watched the tape, he was in the middle of one, messin' up his lines and comin' out of the tape as Joe with just Jack's clothes? How would living with a very confused Joe to start with go?

This fic includes: Soft mention of murder/death + abduction, Joseph being fucked with mentally and emotionally, Cursing, other than that it's sweet from there on. 38 years have past at this point, all of his missing posters depict him as a well established 63 year old. Only miles away near the original scene of the crime, an empty shallow grave with the name washed away and a date of death and birth. Could he have been abducted? A murder case gone cold? While it does seem that way at the start of this when inspecting the body further, it doesn't explain the body leaving past everyone heightened security. Not much you can do about it. It's 1984 after-all, not the best technology. However, what if I told you that I knew where he was at? Where he was hidden away all these years? Left all alone with nothing but himself. No contact with anything or anyone, no idea on what's going in the living world. Nothing. The first few years stuck in that VHS tape collecting dust away somewhere, he had hope that he would one day leave, but gradually he just gave up on hope. All he could so was think. Think and be alone. Think about all his past mistakes and disappointments, what he could've done better, how he may have deserved this. Was this how death was? Was this his own personalized finale for all the wrong-doing he did was alive? Was this his own personal torture chamber? Not even enduring anything physical, just being alone? Being alone for so long can do something to a person, even for someone like Joseph. Not that you'll see it throughout his non-aging development in the tape, but you'll definitely see it from the moment your beautiful/handsome face had accidentally bought the VHS tape and watched it, and as he doesn't hesitate to jump out of your TV. You put in the tape into an old player, you sit down on your couch and stare at the very box and cube like television. It started off with a shaky camera--lots of movement, as if a friend was recording their own doing something. Just making memories. In frame there's a 6'0, muscular man, well built, soft, thick brown fluffy hair, a few face marks, and a few tattoos. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans, a tight tank top, and he had a script in hand. He was rehearsing lines of some sort, you didn't know what, but he kept messing up his lines. When he messed up his lines, his laugh that ensued after was cute. Even though he seemed like a mean man on the outside, he genuinely seemed like a sweet person, his big giddy smile putting one on your own face. The way the people behind the camera teased him like the little brother of the family. It all seemed so sweet. Who could've just gotten rid of this tape like that? As you continued to watch what seemed like a wholesome memory, the tape began to..almost glitch. The camera would flip constantly, the colors would begin to go inverted and it would just mess up. You thought it was an issue with the player itself, so you get up from your couch, pressing random buttons on it, hoping it did something. Within your button pushing something happened. The video just paused. You looked up at the screen, something wasn't right. As you stare further, a big hand extends out of the screen in front of your very eyes. You back away and scream, what the fuck is going and who the fuck is THAT- The man face planted into your floor, and groaned as he got up. As he stood himself up, man was he tall. But as he stood up, he looked down at you. He smiled so brightly as he continued to look at you and look around his surroundings. He took a few steps forward, as if he wanted to get a hug from you, but refrained himself. "Th-thank you, lord you don' know how long I was in there, a-and it' was jus', jus' awful. I'm forever in your debt." He dropped to the floor and on his knees, sitting in front of the couch you were balled up on. You slowly opened up your vulnerable position, and soon got a better look of who this man was. He looked and sounded just like the guy in the tape. No way, no fucking way. Holy fucking shit. "Uh, what year is it, s-sir-?"

You didn't know what the hell to call him, but not like it mattered. Was he a time traveler? You had so many questions and not enough answers. "It don' look like it's 1985 anymore darlin'."

He chuckled softly looking off to the side, inspecting your apartment. "What year is it?" "It's..2023." "Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw! Ain't that somethin' you don't hear everyday!" "Hm, well we have to get you used to the, newer ages I suppose." The first month it was, different. Having a new person living with you, right after you kicked your ex out. You had Joseph stay in what would be your ex's room. You taught Joseph a bunch of new things, and that wall paint should not give you lead poisoning. You didn't mind paying for an extra mouth to feed or shower, especially if that mouth cleaned up the house, making dead floors look alive, and if that mouth basically kept you company whenever. It was sweet. I guess he was as genuine as he cut out to be. The next few months went by like that. You got closer and closer to Joseph, as he did with you. You guys didn't sleep together in the same bed, and nothing more than a hug, but it was nice. He was good to you, and he appreciated your lessons and hospitality. As time passed by longer, you started to develop feelings for Joseph, and believe me, the feeling was mutual once more. You had work and this time Joseph didn't want to go. Usually he just sat in the employee backroom, and waited for you to go there and talk to him. But this time, he just wanted to sleep in. Which is fine, you didn't mind it, he didn't always have to go. So you went by yourself. Work went as usual, customers coming in picking yogurt, weighing the cups and paying, cleaning up occasional mess. Nothing fancy. It's not like you were a CEO of a big company. "Joey? Joey, I'm home!" You yelled out the moment you stepped foot into your apartment, the lights were off. You hung up your keys and took off your shoes, turning on the light in the process. On the counter was a cake. It definitely was home-baked, there was a few decorations and a very messy Joseph. You giggled and shook flour out of his hair. "What's all this for?" You appreciated the gesture, and nudged him with your hip playfully. He got all flustered and pulled your hands close to his heart. Although he didn't say anything, you could tell what he wanted to say. You interlocked your fingers with his own, and gave him a short kiss on the lips. He smiled and picked you up, placing you on the counter. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, he showered your face with all the love and affection he could in 2 minutes. Your hands were placed on his sides, kissing him back, your hands running through the back of his head, twirling his hair. "I know it may be too soon, but-"

"There isn't nothin' to be taking back, Joe."

"I love ya." He pauses to kiss you again. "I love ya more than anythin' I could think off." "I love you too." "So...since you love me~ Could you help me clean up the kitchen?"

"I don't love ya that much, Joey." "You're so cruel~"

#jacktor #sdj jack #sdj jacktor #sdj joseph #sunny day jack #swwsdj #somethings wrong with sunny day jack

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